A poem can be therapeutic but sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.
I like the emotion of your works lady M.
A poem can be therapeutic but sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.
I like the emotion of your works lady M.
All that's left of what we were is what we have become.
Why thank you Jon.
I like your style. The tone is realistic, one that relates the subject matter to the reader in the most honest manner possible. But, as constructive criticism, it did have something of an accusatory air to it, which took me away from that wonderful tone of honesty a couple of times.
But then, that kind of seemed to be a portion of the poem's message, so I don't know that I would recommend changing it. But I definitely liked it. It made me think of Aqualung by Jethro Tull.
Heng Dai
First off, I must say I'm honored to have you comment on my poetry, since I think yours kicks the bejeezus out of mine, LOL! And I thank you for your kind words. As for the accusatory tone, I assume your talking about "The Drunkard" right? Or did you run into the same sort of thing in any of the other poems?Originally Posted by Aaron
I like your style. The tone is realistic, one that relates the subject matter to the reader in the most honest manner possible. But, as constructive criticism, it did have something of an accusatory air to it, which took me away from that wonderful tone of honesty a couple of times.
But then, that kind of seemed to be a portion of the poem's message, so I don't know that I would recommend changing it. But I definitely liked it. It made me think of Aqualung by Jethro Tull.
Anywho, when it comes to my writing, I like to think I'm in the right direction, but I know I have a long way to go before I put out anything great. Thanks for reading!
Yeah, I was talking about The Drunkard. And please, sister, with your too-kind comments!
I'm a guy who used to write lots of good poetry.
Hi all! I know it's been a while, but I'm back with another poem. Enjoy!
ParanoiaPeering out
Through the cracks in my haven of steel.
Tin foiled windows catch the winter sun
Shimmering like Saint Michael’s holy armor.
Smothering the wicked world from my sight
Choking out the cancerous light.
Go outside, they said.
Who said?
Was it the rats inside the walls?
Or the voices in my head?
Step outside the door of sanctuary,
Hinged between safety and destruction
Deathly pallor, pus filled sores of scarlet,
Spread like constellations against rotting flesh.
All brutally exposed now,
Naked against the pitiless sun,
Scathed by the bloodthirsty stares of passer-bys’.
Strolling,
Feet against the frozen pavement
Form a rhythm, chant a chant
Whisper up the words:
Go home
Go home
Go home
Go home
Obsidian trees
Silhouetted skeletons
Against the hellscape,
Winter barren claws
Ready to seize my throat.
Into town now.
Whispers falling from the lips of everyone
Pervade the filthy air.
Whispers about me.
Laughter penetrates my flesh like razors.
What daggers lie behind the winsome smile
Of the fair young lady or the little child?
Behind every closed door lies
A vicious plot for my demise.
A north wind howls through the street,
Singing a song:
Out to get you
Out to get you
Out to get you
For what pleasure was I to find,
Amidst December’s chills?
Curiosity beckons,
Curiosity kills.
Run, retreat, recoil, flee
Back to home’s sweet sanctuary.
Home again.
Lock the windows, lock the door
Curl upon the cold wood floor.
Listen to my heart pound
The same old mantra against my brain:
No one is safe
No one is safe
So, are all of your poems here or are there ones not here that are on AP?
You got me hooked you devil!
All that's left of what we were is what we have become.
Nope, these are all of them (I'm still a poetry n00b), but I'm always working on more. =P
hmm that most recent poem u posted here is quite good, u have a really good sense of rythmn and meter
if the worlds gonna end then let's get it over with, i got shit to do
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